Blueprints and Baseballs
by tenspeed457
Summary: The red scout has been captured by the enemy and abandoned by his team. His only hope lies in the kindness of the blue engineer. This is yaoi...
1. Chapter 1

(I don't own Team Fortress 2)

* * *

~Chapter One~

* * *

He was cold-so damn cold. At night in the desert, the temperatures dropped to well below freezing, although the fact that he was laying in a cold, cement-floored cell with nothing on probably didn't help, either. How had he gotten himself into this mess in the first place? He couldn't believe how stupid, how self-assured he had been that day. It had been a recon mission- his teammates had warned him to be careful- but he had been so overconfident. He let his guard slip for just a moment, but that was all that was needed. So now, he was stuck in the Blue army's base, for God only knows how long, forsaken and forgotten by his team. No one would look very hard for him. Both he and his captors knew that scouts were so expendable that the Red army wouldn't waste the time or effort to search for one measly scout.

He curled his body into as tight of a ball as he could, shivering violently. To be honest, he was surprised he had the energy left to shiver at all. He was rarely fed, and when he was, his body had the unpleasant habit of rejecting the food, since it had grown so unaccustomed to having food in it.

He stiffened, trying to lessen his tremors as he heard approaching footsteps. He could hear them, so they weren't the spy's. He was grateful for that; of all of his tormentors, the spy, who had been the one to capture him, was by far the cruelest. He seemed to take great pleasure in the pain of others. He couldn't hear the telltale limp of the demoman, nor did he hear the loud, clumsy steps of the heavy. Not that the heavy would go anywhere without the medic. The footsteps moved too slowly to be the blue scout, and he doubted that it was the pyro, as she never came anywhere near him. So that left... who? The sniper? The soldier? The possibility of either of the two made his stomach drop with dread. Although the spy was the worst, those two followed closely behind him. He was already tense, anticipating the coming abuse with dread, but he still jumped when there came a knock on his cell door. He wasn't expecting a knock. After all, knocking implied that he had the right to deny them entry, a right that he most definitely didn't have, as he'd learned all too well. Maybe he could hold his breath until he passed out...

"Eh... hello, there?" His eyes flew open immediately. The engineer? What was he doing here? He'd never "visited" his cell before, although the scout had always assumed that it was due to a weak stomach and a distaste for torture. He had noticed the sympathetic looks from the engineer whenever he was transported from on place to another. So why was he here now? Whatever. It didn't really matter _why_ he was here; hopefully it wouldn't last too long. He lay there on the hard floor, shivering, for what seemed like forever, but still, there came no blows, no grasping, injuring hands. He heard a slight movement, and then the engineer cleared his throat, almost nervously. "You awake over there?" Once again, the boy's body stiffened in surprise and suspicion. What was this guy playing at? It had to be some kind of trick, but he didn't know what he was expected to do, didn't know what action would result in the least amount of pain. After a moment of silence, he heard the engineer sigh. "Well, I've got your food, and if you eat it right now, it's still hot-" Food?! Did that mean he had water?! The scout had been in a constant state of dehydration; he was always thirsty. He shot up, as quickly as his malnourished body would allow, to see the engineer place a tray of food on the floor, along with a canteen. When the man had stepped back to watch, the scout eager grabbed the canteen, his hands shaking as he drank as quickly as possible. He spilled a little, but didn't really mind as it dribbled down his front. If anything, it would help to clean some of the filth off of his skin. He didn't want to risk the steamed vegetables (he knew he couldn't keep them down), but he finished off the large bowl of steaming broth. Nothing had ever tasted so good! Feeling slightly better, he sat back on his heels to watch the engineer warily. Oh no! He had brought his toolbox! Who knows what he had in there... the scout was very afraid to find out. Sometimes the spy brought... interesting things with him. Things that the young scout had never even heard of, all of which used for inflicting excruciating pain. The engineer seemed somewhat unsure of himself. Maybe he could get this done quickly, and he would forget all about his toolbox... He crawled forward until he was on his knees in front of the man, running his hand up the inside of his thigh as he unhooked one of the clasps on his overalls. Suddenly, though, the larger man jerked away from him.

"What the hell do you think you're doin'?!" He shouted as he shoved the smaller man roughly away. He fell to the ground, terrified. He had only been doing what he'd been taught!

"Eh, I- uh, sorry, sorry..." He mumbled, flinching violently away from the man. Oh no, now he'd done it! He wasn't supposed to talk; he _knew_ that!!! How many times had he learned that lesson, the hard way? Once again, though, the blows never came. He lay there, trembling with both fear and cold. Things were not going as expected, and the uncertainty frightened him. He couldn't figure out what this man wanted! He finally risked a glance at the other man, who was rifling through his toolbox.

"Here," he said gruffly, tossing something at him. "Put that on." He was curious, despite himself. This was... clothes?! He hadn't been allowed clothes in quite some time. He'd had a towel for a while, that he'd kept wrapped around himself, but even that had been taken away. He quickly pulled on the threadbare pajama pants and t-shirt. They were pretty beaten up, but right about now, he thought they were wonderful. He glanced at the engineer again, cautiously, and the man blushed and looked away from the scout's eyes. What was going on? This was making no sense. "Calm down, boy. I'm not gonna do anything to yeh." What? Lies! It had to be a lie. Well, the engineer had always seemed more kind than the rest of his barbaric team... although the scout allowed himself no hope, he decided to play along with the man. "Listen. They're preparin' for a battle- a real big one, this week. Dunno how long it's gonna last, though, but they're gonna abandon this base, and they wanted to give the new engineer a shot. You know, good field trainin'." Why was the man telling him this? He fidgeted uncomfortably. "Well anyways, they don't want you excapin', runnin' back to your side to tell them all our secrets. They wanted to kill ya, cuz it would be too difficult to travel and keep you tied down, so to speak, but I, ah, I..." He paused, scratching his head awkwardly. "I said that I'd stay at this base, make sure ya don't run off anywhere. I've been talking about retiring from the fighting anyway, so I figured this would be as good of a time as any." What was he saying? "Eh... you can talk if you want, boy..." He wasn't sure what there was to say.

"So... what does this... mean?" He practically whispered, still half-expecting the man to lash out at him.

"Well, doesn't mean anything, just yet. But two days from now, it'll just be you 'n' me." The scout's blood ran cold. That sounded... bad. Very bad. He had a pretty good idea of what the man would want from him once they were away from the rest of the team. His panic must have shown, because the engineer tried to reassure him. "Hey, I told you, I'm not gonna do anything to ya. But until then, you gotta act like I'm hurtin' you and stuff. You know? I mean, they're not gonna leave you alive with me if they think I'm going all soft on them. Ya got it?" He nodded slowly, staring open-mouthed at the man. He didn't care how ridiculous he looked; he'd long since lost his dignity. Surely, this couldn't be happening. He resolved to not believe a word the man said until it actually happened; until he was actually safe from harm, but he made sure to appease him nonetheless. "Aright, then. You keep the clothes; I'll jest tell them that it's more 'my thing.' God, those sick bastards were overjoyed when I offered to stick with you. 'Course, they assume I'm fucked in the head like them. So jest hang in there for a few more days, okay?" Again, the scout silently nodded, mind racing through the ramifications of this. "Okay, now try and get some sleep. You look like you need it." And then the engineer was leaving his cell, locking the door behind him. When he thought the man was far away enough that he couldn't hear, he whispered a quiet thanks to the first person to show him any kindness in months.

* * *

**A/N**: So there's the first chapter. I was playing TF2, and I was a red scout, and I was like "Hey! I should write a fanfiction!" and then I found a little comic strip I saved a while ago with the scout and the engineer, and I got all excited. so here it is.

I love the scout, just in case you couldn't tell.

thank you very much for reading it, I hope you liked it! I'll try to update quickly.

~alex~


	2. Chapter 2

(I don't own Team Fortress Two)

* * *

~Chapter Two~

* * *

He didn't see the engineer at all in the next few days, although he did see some of the... less kind members of the team. Especially the spy, unfortunately. It had been a tough couple of days, and he had the bruises, scrapes, cuts, cigarette burns, and bite marks to prove it. The last visit was especially bad; the spy had assaulted him over and over, getting more violent each time. The scout's back was bleeding by this point, the skin raw from being rubbed against the cement floor and slammed into the walls countless times.

"'ave you 'ad enough, yet?" The spy mocked him. He remained silent, well aware of the consequences of speaking aloud. "I 'ad thought not," he hissed, grinning evilly as he continued his torture. The scout merely gritted his teeth, staring up at the dingy ceiling above him. He had long since surrendered to the pain; this way, he was able to lose himself, to remove himself as far as possible from the current situation. The spy threw the smaller man aside roughly when he had finished with him, smirking at the sound of the scout's head hitting the hard floor. "I vill miss you in ze coming veeks, _mon cher_," he purred into the scout's ear. "But, _ne pas s'inquiéter_. I vill find anuzzer pet, from your pathetic leetle team." Although the spy's words infuriated him, the scout's expression didn't change. He showed no indication that he had even heard the spy's words, let alone been affected by them. No matter how accurate the statement might be, he knew that the man was trying to evoke a reaction from him. Once his tormentor had left him, he fell into a light, fitful sleep, not budging from where he had fallen.

* * *

The engineer fidgeted with his tool belt nervously as he stood outside the door to the cell. The team had cleared out, most of them too fueled by bloodlust and ready for battle to bid their former top engineer goodbye. Not that he minded. He just wanted to get them the hell outta there so that he could get the kid taken care of. And maybe have some time to relax. He knocked on the door apprehensively, pushing the door open when he got no response. When he saw the scout off to the side of the room, struggling painfully to pull himself to his hands and knees, he rushed over to help him. The battered scout jerked back in fear; his eyes were those of a broken, defeated person.

"Hey, easy, now. I'm not gonna do anything bad to ya," he assured him. "I'm just trying to help." The boy looked unconvinced, but seemed to be taken over by exhaustion and pain, and a few seconds later, the engineer had to dive to stop his head from colliding with the pavement once again as he passed out. He tried shaking him gently, attempting to wake him up, but he was out cold. Well, might as well take advantage of the situation. He very carefully picked the scout's unconscious form off of the ground, his stomach turning due to the smell. He carried the boy to his personal quarters (one of the few perks of being the head of your class), drawing a bath for him. Using a soft sponge and very mild soap, he began the slow task of gently washing the boy's frail body. He had to empty and refill the tub when the water became too dirty, such was the extent of the accumulated blood, sweat, dust, semen, and who knows what else that caked his skin. Finally, he seemed to be sufficiently clean, and the engineer treated and bandaged some of the worst of the wounds. He was no medic, but he knew enough first aid to get by in a pinch. He awkwardly dressed the scout in a pair of soft pajamas that he had stolen from the pyro earlier that day for just this purpose. Hopefully, she'd never miss them; she had, like, fifty pairs anyway. Why in hell one person needed that many clothes, he'd never know. Once the boy was clothed, he tucked him securely into bed, being very careful not to further hurt his already damaged body. His face looked slightly flushed, and the engineer worried that he had probably caught a fever from sleeping on the cold cement night after night. His immune system would be shot to hell- he hadn't gotten nearly enough nutrients in the past few months, and the engineer could practically count the boy's ribs. His breathing was shallow and fast, as if he were exerting himself in some way. The engineer moved to the adjoining kitchen to make the boy some broth. He needed it badly, and if he didn't wake up soon, he would have to wake him up to make him eat. While the soup was cooking, he went to check on his patient. His cheeks were a dark shade of red, and they burned. Definitely a fever. He rushed to get a cold washcloth. When he sat next to the boy, carefully dabbing cool water onto his face, neck, and chest, the scout let out a sound that was somewhere between a whine and a distressed sob, and the engineer was struck by how _young_ he was. Well, of course he was young; scouts never made it very long, but this one looked like he should be home, ditching class and running around with his friends, driving his parents crazy. He did _not_ look like he should be lying here, deathly ill and beaten almost to death, abused to an extreme extent.

"Well, nothin' I can do about that. Just gotta take care of him now that I can," he reasoned, finally remembering that he was still wearing his hard hat, and placing it on the back of the chair. Unfortunately, his arch-nemesis, Gravity, was working against him today, and the hat fell to the floor with an extremely loud smash. The scout lurched awake, thrashing around in the covers as if to fight off any dangers. Well, it was good that he was that aggressive, but he was going to hurt himself if he kept it up for much longer. "Hey, hey, calm down!" He was starting to panic too, but at the sound of his voice, the boy stopped all movement, lying still. His eyes were shut tightly. "Eh... you okay?" The engineer felt stupid asking it, but he didn't know what else to say. "You can talk. I'm tellin' ya, I'm not gonna hurt ya. Here, I made you food." He poured some of the broth into a cup, which he pushed into the scout's hands. He made short work of it, but looked slightly nauseous. Probably drank it too fast. "So, uh, you feelin' any better?" The scout nodded, still saying nothing. "Please say somethin'. You're makin' me feel awkward." The boy's eyes opened wide, and he stared at him for a moment before lowering his gaze.

"Why?" he whispered.

"Why what?"

"Why are you doing this? You can do anything you want to me; no one's gonna stop you. Why are you feeding me and... wait, how'd I get clean?" He looked panicked again.

"Shh, relax, boy. I cleaned ya up. You were lookin' and smellin' pretty bad, there. Didn't want your wounds to get infected..." The scout gaped at him.

"You still didn't say why you're doing this..." He looked frightened that the engineer would be angry for speaking to him like that.

"Cuz, they treated you like shit. The things they did to you weren't right. You can't treat people like that. Hell, you didn't do anything other than follow orders, just like the rest of us. You didn't deserve that shit, and I wanna help you if I can. My team did so much damage. I can't fix it, but I wanna help you." He couldn't look at the scout; not after he'd just rambled like a moron. After a moment, the scout spoke.

"What's your name?" The engineer glanced at the scout in surprise. The boy still looked pretty scared, but he didn't look like he was gonna keel over and die at any moment, either.

"Beryl. What's yours?"

"Russel."

"Good to meet you, Russel." The engineer stuck out his hand, and the scout tentatively shook it.

"You too. I... I don't know how to thank you for helpin' me..." The engineer shook his head.

"No, no. I already told ya, it's the least I can do for ya. Just heal up; that'll be thanks enough." Russel wasn't sure what to make of the man, but he seemed to be pretty honest. Maybe he _was_ telling the truth. Maybe Russel could get out of this alive...

* * *

A/N: Okay, there's chapter two; thanks for reading!

So about the names: Russel is an English name meaning "little red one," and Beryl is a color of blue.

French stuff

-_Ne pas s'inquiéter- _"Do not worry."

-_mon cher- _"My dear"

Don't worry, the next chapter is on its way. hopefully, you like this so far! Let me know what you think!

*many thanks to soundofmadness223*

~alex~


	3. Chapter 3

(I don't own Team Fortress Two)

* * *

~Chapter Three~

* * *

That night, Russel would have slept very well, if not for the nagging fear that his caretaker would change his mind and, despite all reassuring words and promises, decide that he _did_ want to hurt him after all. Even so, he awoke feeling more refreshed than he had in a long time. The smell of something cooking made him realize just how hungry he really was. As he slowly, stiffly made his way into the kitchen, he wondered why the hell he was wearing fuzzy pajamas with pink flames on them. No, probably better not to ask. He cautiously greeted Beryl, who was already hard at work at the stove.

"Hey. Morning. Sleep well?" Russel nodded. "Good. You like your eggs scrambled?" He nodded again. Hell, at this point, he would have liked his eggs burned black and scraped off the bottom of the skillet, it had been so long since he'd eaten real food. "Don't hafta eat all of it. Probably get sick if ya did," the engineer told him as he sat at the other end of the table, sliding him a heaping plate of eggs, bacon, sausage, and two biscuits. Russel just stared at it for a moment, unsure of where to start, before picking up his fork and eating as much as his still delicate stomach could handle. They ate in silence, both of them sneaking glances when they thought the other wasn't looking. When Russel pushed his plate away, Beryl cleaned up after the meal, chatting amiably about random things, like the drought they'd been having. "Reminds me of home, kinda. Grew up in Texas. I don't really mind the heat. It got plenty hot during the summer at home." Russel knew that he was talking mainly for his benefit, trying to put him more at ease, and he appreciated it. He liked listening to the older man's deep voice, his gentle southern accent adding a hint of rhythm to his words. "How about you?" Russel looked at him in surprise. "Where you from?"

"Eh- 'm from Boston. Lived there with my ma until I finished with school... Ya know," he explained awkwardly, the engineer's steady gaze making him slightly uncomfortable. "Uh... you want any help with that?" he asked, gesturing to the dirty dishes that Beryl was washing. The man shrugged.

"Nah, it's okay. I got it. Don't want you hurtin' yourself, either." Russel was slightly miffed.

"What the hell? I ain't _that_ beat up!" he countered, jumping up quickly to prove it- and landing hard on the floor as his knees gave out. Damn traitorous legs. "So I'm a little weak still. What's so funny?" he snapped, ignoring the offered hand and using the chair to haul himself to his feet. Beryl shrugged.

"Nothin, nothin." he chuckled. "Glad you have enough energy to be that feisty." Russel huffed, ignoring the man. "Okay, lissen, kid. Don't take this the wrong way. I'm _not_ gonna hurt you, but I need to look at yer injuries. Ok?" Russel nodded, swallowing nervously. He limped after the man into the other room, sitting on the bed where Beryl indicated for him to sit. "Alright. Now please, you gotta trust me. Okay?" No, not okay! He'd just met this guy. He was part of the enemy team- the team that had already caused him so much pain! The team that had done this to him! Beryl sighed upon seeing Russel's expression. "Just for right now. You got no other choice right now, cuz your wounds will get infected, and you could die." Death was preferable to some things... "You can keep on your underwear, but the shirt and pants have to go. Hey, calm down! Calm down. I swear on my toolbox, I'm not gonna hurt you!" Russel fought to control the rising feeling of panic as he tried to think logically. The man was right, he had to trust him at least a little. When he had stopped shaking, he reluctantly pulled off his shirt, then his pants, which he kept draped across his lap to cover himself at least a little. "There we go. It's okay. It's gonna be okay," Beryl murmured a constant stream of comforting words as he inspected the boy's wounds. It was the same tone he used when comforting a sheep or cow giving birth, but Russel didn't need to know that. The scout flinched slightly under every touch, but he allowed Beryl to treat him. At least none of his bones were broken, that Beryl could tell. Now that he had more time to examine him more thoroughly, he was able to see exactly the extent of damage on the poor boy's body. He had bruises everywhere- he could clearly see fingerprints on his wrists, arms, and hips. The rest of his body was peppered with a wide variety of colors from dark, angry black, blue and purple bruises, to sickly-looking, yellow and greenish bruises. The skin had been rubbed raw on his back, and he sported two skinned knees. Here and there, he had a few bite marks, and the skin around his wrists and ankles looked to be rope-burned. He had some other scrapes and scratches, but what horrified him most were the numerous small, round burns and deep, long cuts that were definitely deliberately inflicted. He pictured Mer, that bastard spy, with his ever-present cigarette, and that damn knife he loved to play with so much, and his pulse rose in anger. He growled slightly under his breath, making Russel shiver. "Dammit!" he shouted, his anger getting the better of him, and Russel lurched away from him, his arms going up to wrap around his body, protecting himself as much as possible. Shit. Now he had terrified the already scared boy... "No, no. Not you. I'm sorry I yelled, just calm down," he coaxed, but the look of fear in the scout's eyes remained. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you..."

"W-what the hell was that for?" He could see that the boy wouldn't come any closer to him without a good explanation. He sighed, rubbing his chin.

"I just don't understand how they- them that did that to you, can live with themselves. 'Specially that _fucking_ spy!" The venom in his voice astounded Russel. When the man had shouted, he had automatically assumed that it was aimed at him... the mention of the spy made Russel twitch, and that only served to further anger the engineer. "Oh, that bastard 'ad better _pray_ that he never sees me again..." He continued his rant for a few moments before taking a deep breath. "Sorry. Don't mind me. Now, ya want some different clothes, or you wanna keep wearin' those pajamas?" Russel blinked at him before blushing, remembering his near-naked state.

"Eh... some normal clothes'd be nice... where in the heck did you get these from, anyways?" he asked, kicking at the fuzzy pink pile on the floor.

"Heh. Stole 'em from Affery, our head pyro. She's a pretty good girl. Doubt she'd mind you havin' 'em too much. Not that she needs to know about it, or anything like that." He winked at Russel, thrilled when the boy's gaunt face allowed a small smile to flit across it. That was more like it. _That_ was what he wanted to see more of. "Hm... think I have some that'd fit you somewhere. Be right back." He strode out, leaving Russel in the room. The scout sank to the floor against the wall, still trembling. He was still quite weak, and that sudden adrenaline burst had taken a lot out of him. His head was beginning to throb, too, and he couldn't help but wonder about his ma, and how she was. He hadn't written to her in so long, and she'd probably been told that he was MIA. He'd been trying not to worry about her; she was a strong lady, but he was her only kid. Other than him, she was all alone. Maybe... nah. Eh, might as well ask him when he came back... couldn't hurt to try, right?

After Beryl had returned with a shirt that hung off of his thin figure and a pair of pants that were at least three sizes too big (thankfully he had a belt, although they had to punch another hole in it), Russel lay on the engineer's sofa, resting, and trying to summon his courage.

"Hey, uh, Beryl?" The engineer jumped, seeming surprised by the boy's voice.

"Yeah? What's the matter? You okay?" He sounded so genuinely concerned, that the scout again wondered if maybe he really _was_ trustworthy. That would be nice.

"Do- do you think I could write to my ma? Ya know, so she knows I ain't six feet under?" Beryl's eyes widened.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, didn't even think about that. Uh, the train passes through here every other week, so it should be here 'n bout three days, I think." Russel breathed a sigh of relief. Not only had he _not_ gotten hit for asking, he'd been given permission!

He wasn't entirely sure what to write, so he just decided to keep it short and sweet.

"Dear Ma,

Guess what? I'm alive! I can't tell you where I am, but I'm okay for now, so don't worry about me. I miss you.

Love, Russel"

He frowned at it. It sounded cold and impersonal, but it would have to do for now.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for reading, and for your kind reviews!

~The name Affery is an Arabic girl's name meaning blue, and the name Mer is the French word for "sea." I thought that was fitting, because he's the blue spy, and the sea is blue (duh, Alex), and the sea is cruel... yay for metaphors. I have a thing for names- when I was little, I had this baby name book, and even though I couldn't read very well, I loved that book. Now, I have quite a few name books. This year for Christmas, my mom gave me three baby name books, and she got me a Maori name book when she went to New Zealand.

~Haha, my rat Fannie just ran by me with a piece of chocolate that she found in my room somewhere... so cute.

Ok, thank you again for reading! I'll update as soon as I can, so let me know what you think!

*many thanks to soundofmadness223*

~alex~


	4. Chapter 4

(I don't own Team Fortress Two)

* * *

~Chapter Four~

* * *

There wasn't a whole lot to do around the base. Russel did a lot of resting, and when Beryl was convinced that he was strong enough, he went with him on his daily inspection of the grounds.

"Well, I'm retired now, and you're not actually fightin', but it's still a war. Ya can't be too careful..." After Russel and Beryl had been there alone for almost two weeks, Russel convinced the engineer to let him make the rounds solo. After all, there's no one better for a scouting mission than a scout, right? He had recovered, for the most part, from his physical wounds, and he could finish in half the time the two of them took.

"Be careful!" Beryl always warned him sternly.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, _Ma,_" Russel would reply, rolling his eyes. He wasn't too sure why the engineer cared so much about his well-being, but he was beginning to find that he liked the idea of someone watching out for him.

This morning, however, was different. For one thing, it was raining. It _never_ rained. They were in the middle of the desert! Apparently, they'd gotten their one day of rainfall for the whole year.

"So what're we gonna do?" Russel asked, watching the rain hit the window.

"Dunno. Not much we _can_ do, 'cept wait it out. Hey!" Russel jumped. "What're you drinkin'?"

"Nothing." Russel tried to conceal his mug. "Just water."

"Why is it steaming?"

"I... wanted to make tea. But we got no tea bags."

"You hate tea." Damn! The engineer and scout had gotten to know each other too well over the days; he couldn't fool him. "Now put the coffee down before I hit ya over the head with my wrench," he ordered sternly. Russel stuck his tongue out at Beryl before zipping nimbly around the larger man and speeding out of the room. Beryl shook his head. He'd one day given the already energetic scout a cup of coffee, mainly to see what would happen, and he'd regretted it ever since; he'd created a monster. Russel was hooked on the stuff, and even one mug would send him bouncing off the walls for hours. Truthfully, though, Beryl loved the scout's energy and antics. He had changed so drastically from when he had first started taking care of him... he still wasn't a big fan of being touched, and Beryl had heard him crying in his sleep a few times, but he seemed happy enough, chatting openly with Beryl and following him around the base. He was glad for the company; the boy was fun to be around, and Beryl was growing more and more attached to him.

"Hey, man. Whatcha doin'?"

"Drawin' plans for a house. I gotta settle down somewhere now that I'm retired. I been thinkin' of ideas of where to live. I dunno yet." Russel silently watched Beryl's hands moving deftly across the page, carefully measuring and plotting each line with precision.

"Where ya gonna go? I mean, like, when you goin' and stuff?" Beryl stopped drawing when he heard the shaky, uncertain voice.

"Russel? What'sa matter?" He studied the boy intently.

"Huh? Nothin' wrong, why'd you think there's somethin' wrong?" Something was definitely wrong.

"Russel, you can tell me what's botherin' you... why do you look so sad?" The scout shook his head defiantly after glancing again at the unfinished blueprints. Beryl's heart jumped. Did it have something to do with him? With his plans to move away? To be fair, the boy had suffered horrible trauma, and afterward, Beryl had been the one to take care of him. It would make sense that Russel would feel very attached to him. "It's not like I'm leavin' any time soon anyway. Just doodles, really."

"Whatever." The scout seemed nonchalant, but Beryl thought he could see a hint of relief in his face. Or maybe he was just imagining it. He flopped down on the couch. "God, it's so frickin' boring when it's raining!"

"Aw, come on. It rains once a year, if that. Don't complain. What would you rather do?" Russel shrugged.

"Dunno. Whaddya do when you're bored?"

"Eh... not usually too bored... Dad had a farm, so I was usually helpin' him out. You?"

"Baseball. I'm the best in my neighborhood. Fastest, too." Beryl laughed.

"Yeah, I'd believe that. You're fast, all right. So you got a girlfriend or anything?" He told himself that the question was purely out of platonic curiosity. They'd never before breached the subject of romance.

"Nah. Not a girlfriend." Hm.... not a _girl_friend?

"And, uh... a boyfriend?" Shit! Had he sounded eager? He didn't want to sound eager.

"W-wh- I- no!" The scout stuttered, blushing like crazy. "Why? You think I'm gay?"

"I didn't say you were. You said you didn't have a girlfriend, so I figured maybe ya liked guys. Not a big deal, so just cool it."

"I- oh. Well. Um..." Beryl raised an eyebrow as the boy struggled with his words.

"Well, _do_ ya fancy guys?" Russel wouldn't look at him. He looked at the floor, he looked at the wall, he looked at his shoes, but not at Beryl.

"Eh... I dunno... I-I so...what if I do?!" Beryl was stunned that Russel had (sort of) admitted it. The scout was a very proud person; usually, he let nothing embarrass him. "Huh?" He sounded very awkward.

"Oh."

"That's it? Just 'oh?'"

"Well, what else 'm I supposed to say?"

"I dunno, freak out on me, call me a moron. Whatever."

"Why would I do that?"

"Dat's why I left home in the first place. 'Parrently, likin' guys if you are one is a one way ticket to hell." Beryl shook his head sadly.

"Nah. If yer born one way, it's just wrong to try an' go against that. If anythin' is gonna get you to hell, it's hatin' people for how they are naturally." Russel scratched his head thoughtfully.

"Huh. Mebbe you should market that idea..." Beryl just laughed. "Or talk to my ma." Hm. What're you supposed to say to something like that?

"She really minded that much?" Beryl asked, unable to help thinking of his own parents and their... old-fashioned views.

"Yeah, she don't like gays that much. Says it's unnatural. But you don't think so, right? I mean... not like I wanna be gay. Or whatever." He was starting to ramble.

"Hey, calm down, boy. 'Course I don't think it's unnatural. I wouldn't say I'm too unnatural." The scout stared at him for a moment, not comprehending.

"... Oh!" Took him long enough... "Oh. Oh, uh, you're...?" He blushed profusely. Beryl nodded.

"Yep," he stated matter-of-factly. "Never told my folks, though. Wouldn't of set well with 'em, you know?"

"Well, not like I really meant to tell her or anything like that... she kinda saw some things she shouldn't 'ave, if ya get my drift." Beryl nodded, chuckling, although he was curious as to what _exactly_ had happened. Not that he was jealous. No way, not him. They sat there in complete, awkward silence for close to a minute before the caffeine kicked in, and Russel started fidgeting, and then stood up, looking out the window mournfully. "_Why_ does it have to _rain?_" he lamented, bouncing up and down on his toes.

"_Why_ did ya have to drink the _coffee_?" Beryl countered, mimicking the scout's tone.

"Aw, c'mon. You know ya love me," the scout chided him. Beryl nodded seriously.

"Yeah, yer right." He was right. Beryl was just beginning to wonder exactly which way he loved him...

* * *

A/N: Thank you, everyone who reviewed! I'm glad you guys are liking this so much... I'm doing my best!

~many thanks to soundofmadness223~

I would love reviews!

~alex~


	5. Chapter 5

(I don't own Team Fortress Two)

* * *

~Chapter Five~

* * *

Russel lay awake that night, staring straight up at the ceiling. Okay, so maybe Beryl had a point with the whole coffee thing. Although the caffeine high should have been wearing off by this time... so why couldn't he sleep? It was like his mind wouldn't shut off. First, he'd be thinking about one thing, like when the train would come through again, and what kind of stuff Beryl had ordered, then he'd be thinking about those blueprints, and what they meant to him. That shouldn't have bothered him, the idea of Beryl going somewhere else, but he couldn't help but feel a little lonely. As depressing as it was, Beryl was one of the only real friends he had. Sure, he'd had his friends in grade school, but they hadn't seen each other since graduation the year before. The people on his own team... well, his team didn't really get along that well. Nothing outwardly hostile, just no one was really very buddy-buddy. It was a war, after all. But then came Beryl, who had no reason and no incentive to even be decent to him, much less to save his life and treat him so kindly... he jumped at the loud crack of thunder outside. Yeah, it was _still_ raining. Would it ever stop? Probably, but right now, to him, it felt like it would last forever.

"Why does it hafta thunder?" He muttered angrily. He _hated_ thunder. Always had. It wasn't _natural, _the sky making all kinds of loud noises like that. Not to mention that lightning was dangerous. Actually, pretty much all electricity was dangerous... he shivered as he remembered one of that damn spy's favorite things; it was basically a scout-zapper. Well, maybe not just a scout-zapper, but it was a zapper alright. God, did that thing hurt. It made his muscles do all kinds of weird things on their own, too. Like, the second that guy would get the current going through the scout's muscles, they would twitch and contract, and move by themselves. And hurt like hell. "No! No, don't think about it!" he smacked his forehead as another loud zap of lightning made him flinch. "Shit..." Ugh, if only he could... "No, no no! Can't do that. Don't even think about it!" his body seemed to disagree with his mind, and shivering slightly in the cool night air, he crawled out of bed and into the other room. He could hear Beryl's deep, even breathing, and he felt slightly better already. Somehow, that peaceful sound brought a sense of normalcy and relief. _Really shouldn't wake him up..._ he thought as he tiptoed towards the sleeping man. He could just lay down on the floor by the bed, in the room so he wouldn't be alone, but God, when had it gotten so cold? He shivered again, his teeth rattling together, and almost as if his body were acting on its own, he carefully crawled onto the bed next to Beryl, hesitating for a moment before slipping under the covers. He shuddered in pleasure at the sudden warmth; it felt nice to be in a warm bed after standing on the frigid, wooden floor. But crap- no, no this wasn't right! He fought to control his panic at the feeling of another warm body next to his. He hadn't noticed that the engineer had stopped his light snoring, or that he had shifted ever-so-slightly next to him, until the man spoke sleepily.

"Russel? That you?" Russel whimpered. This had been a terrible idea, and now Beryl would get angry! He'd probably make him leave, and then he'd be stuck in the desert, or something terrible like that... and he was trying so hard not to leap away from the man laying next to him, and then he felt a hand on his arm, and he couldn't help but let out a muffled sob. Shit! He sounded like a little girl! Now Beryl would hate him even more, because he was a wimp. Fucking hell, he couldn't do anything right! "Russel, what's wrong? What's the matter? Russel?" Beryl was starting to sound frantic.

"N-no- s-s-sorry, I c-couldn't sleep, I'll just-just get outta here, sorry," Russel apologized profusely as he stumbled on his words. He tensed for a moment as he felt a muscular arm around his torso. "Wha?"

"It's okay. Really, I don't mind. I'd like you to stay... but only if ya wanna, ya know." He sounded embarrassed. But that couldn't be right; what did he have to be embarrassed about? Russel was the one making a fool of himself... He jumped again as the lightning flashed, the thunder the loudest one yet, and a small whimper of fear escaped. He cursed himself for that weakness. Beryl wasn't afraid of this stupid shit, why should he be? "Russel, calm down!" he flinched as Bery gently smoothed back the boy's hair. "Shh... it's alright! It won't hurt ya. Nothing's gonna hut you while yer with me," He promised. He fought to relax in the man's embrace. He'd been the one to want this, after all. And to be fair, the engineer was being so kind to him... aw, what the hell. He'd let himself enjoy this for now. If it turned out to be a lie, then he'd deal with the pain then, but for right now, he just wanted to feel this. He wrapped his arms around a surprised, sleepy engineer, still trembling, but burying his face in the man's broad chest for comfort. After a second or two of shocked stillness, the engineer awkwardly put his arms around the frightened scout, stroking his back softly. "R-Russel?" Ok, here it came. He was gonna yell at him now, for sure... or expect him to do... things... now that they were in the same bed. Why, oh why had he even gotten out of bed? "Russel, look at me. Please." he looked up at the man, just barely able to see his face in the dim light from the nightlight in the bathroom (Beryl's idea- so that they didn't "fall and break their necks in the dark."). He didn't look angry or anything, just... just... what was that emotion? Russel couldn't place it. "It's okay, love." That was it! No, it couldn't be... _love._ No. Just... no. he wouldn't love someone like... someone as stupid, and just... as... disgusting, and dirty, as him. Couldn't. "Look, it's alright. I promise, I'll take care of you. Kay?" He had to know.

"W-w-why? Why y-you wanna take care of m-me?" Beryl looked confused. "I mean, like, y-you d-didn't even know me, and-and-and now you're protectin' me? I-I- why?" He sounded so pathetic like that! "D-do y-you- do you-" He couldn't say it. Why couldn't he make himself say it? It couldn't be that hard...

"Yeah, I do." what? How had he... he gently kissed Russel's forehead, just below his hairline, hugging him closely. That washed away what little resolve the scout had left, and he pulled the engineer as close as possible. He flinched again at the thunder, and Beryl rubbed his back soothingly.

"Don't worry, love," he said again. "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

He slept a little better after that, laying in Beryl's arms. Whenever a jolt of lightning would frighten him awake, the man would instantly respond by comforting him, holding him protectively and whispering kind words. The next morning, however, was something else entirely.

"_**Shit!!!**_" Russel leaped out of the bed as if it had burned him.

"Whassa matter?" The engineer groaned sleepily.

"What the hell was I thinkin'? God! What the fuck, man! What the fuck!" Beryl couldn't understand why the scout was getting so upset.

"Boy, you okay? Wha's goin' on?" He wasn't entirely awake; he hadn't slept very well. Not that he minded. The scout looked pale, and was rhythmically smacking himself in the forehead.

"Stupid...stupid...stupid..." Beryl grabbed both of the boy's wrists, forcing him to stop.

"Russel! What's the matter?"

"I'm retarded, that's what!" Russel moaned. The engineer just looked confused. It was entirely too early for this kind of thinking.

"...Huh?"

"Whaddaya mean, 'huh?' I freaked out for no fucking reason!" his voice was steadily rising in volume and pitch. "I mean it's frickin' _thunder!_ Five-year-olds can handle thunder, and I can't? So, of course, what do I do? I go runnin' into bed with you, like the freakin' homo I am!" He was trembling by now, and he was practically yelling.

"Calm down, boy. No, lissen to me. Everyone's afraid of somethin', and everyone has irrational fears. It's nothin' to be ashamed of." As much as he appreciated the kind words, he couldn't bring himself to meet the man's eyes. Beryl sighed. "Lissen," he said again, "I told ya last night that I didn't mind you comin' in here like that, that I'd like you stayin' if you wanted to. I didn't jest say that to make you feel better. I meant it. Okay?" The scout said nothing, and Beryl worried that he might have overstepped. "N-not that I'm expectin' you to do anything, I mean, don't do anything yer not comfortable with..." He was at a loss for words, digging himself into a deeper and deeper hole with every word. "Say somethin'?" he didn't want to pressure the scout, but the tense silence was killing him.

"Ya really mean that?" The boy's voice was so quiet, he could barely even hear it, but he nodded mutely in response. "Huh... well-well then, uh... then when you build your house or whatever the hell you wanna build, can-can... can I come with ya?" Beryl froze for a moment, thinking he must have heard wrong (he was still speaking so quietly, after all), but when Russel turned to look at him, his eyes were so full of fear, pain, and pleading, that he couldn't form a coherent answer. So he just kissed him, instead. He was a little awkward (he'd only ever had any experience whatsoever with one or two people- not a lot of openly gay men in his part of Texas), but he was gentle, and tried to encourage the scout. Not that he needed much encouragement; he eagerly returned the kiss, practically throwing himself at the engineer.

"Woah, you tryin' to kill me or somethin'?" Beryl joked as he fought to keep his balance. He unlatched the scout's arms from their death grip around his neck, shushing the mournful whine from the younger man. "Don't worry, we can continue later. You wanna get somethin' to eat though? If yer good, I'll give yeh some coffee..." He laughed as Russel's eyes widened.

"So you promise you ain't mad at me or nothin'?"

"Why the hell would I be mad?" Beryl scratched his head, and the scout shrugged.

"'Cuz I'm kinda bein' a slut here," he explained, again latching himself to the engineer's neck. He didn't sound too bothered by it, but underneath the "casual" tone of voice, Beryl could tell that he was just being cautious, trying to feel the engineer out and make sure he wasn't just playing with him.

"Nah, yer not a slut. You didn't do anythin'! Well, other than come in here when ya were scared, but that don't count as bein' slut-like." Russel cocked his head to one side, considering it. "Don't worry about it, boy. Yer fine how ya are." Russel looked happier than the engineer had ever seen him, and he braced himself as the energetic boy threw himself at him again. "Now c'mon. Let's go get some food."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you like this chapter... I'm glad so many of you are liking it so far!

so guess what? I got two baby rats! unfortunately, my one rat Fannie who I've had for a couple of years died, and her sister Phoebe was lonely, so I got these two. I named them Ren and Cricket. They're very cute, and Phoebe loves to groom them and take care of them.

Anyway, tell me what you think!

~alex~


	6. Chapter 6

(I don't own Team Fortress Two)

**!!!Warning!!!: This chapter contains a lemon. Some people had voiced complaints over the fact that this is a yaoi story. For those of you who don't really like yaoi or lemons, I've marked where the lemon begins and where it ends. **

* * *

~Chapter Six~

* * *

Oh, how Russel loved coffee... or at least the coffee that Beryl made. it wasn't all sweet and sugary, like that girly shit his ma used to drink. It was strong and dark, and had his pulse racing in minutes.

"Slow down! Yer gonna choke!" Okay, so maybe he drank it a little too quickly... but then, he did everything quickly. That's why they'd chosen him as a scout. No way he could have been anything else. Spy? Forget it. That took too much stealth, and he didn't have the patience for that. Same for sniping; boring as hell, sitting in one spot for hours, waiting for someone to come within range of your rifle. Medic? He didn't know shit about medical stuff. He was small, thin, and fast- perfect for scouting. If you move quickly enough, after all, they can't hit you. That was the idea, anyway. Apparently, he couldn't do that right, either. As much as he regretted getting caught by the spy, he was grateful that the engineer had stepped in and saved him, and even more grateful that he had decided to stay. "Oh, eh..." Beryl sounded uncomfortable.

"Whassa matter?" Russel asked around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"So I uh, heard from the rest of my team..." he had to stop to pat the scout on the back as he choked. "It's okay, they jest wanted to say that they're not comin' back for at least a few months. Maybe fer good. But it got me thinkin', did you wanna contact yer team? Tell 'em you're alive?" Russel shook his head emphatically.

"Nuh-uh! If I contact them, they're gonna want me to come back to 'em! I'm not goin' anywhere without you," He declared, matter-of-factly as he continued to shovel food in his mouth. Beryl watched in fascination. He still couldn't figure out how the scout was able to do that, talk with his mouth stuffed. "If that's okay, I mean."

"'Course it's okay. I tell ya what, though, if my team says they're comin' back, we're outta here." Russel smiled weakly, his face a little pale. Beryl sighed. "Russel, I told ya. They're not comin' back here."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it already." He stuck his tongue out at the engineer, who swatted him on the side of the head affectionately. "Aww, c'mon! Be nice!"

"Nice? I am nice!" He laughed.

"Yeah, you are. That's why I like you." The boy's demeanor was suddenly serious, as he watched Beryl intently. He jumped up without warning, planting himself in the other man's lap. He wrapped his arms around his neck, holding on tightly.

"What're ya doin'?" He asked awkwardly.

"Makin' sure you don't go nowhere without me." Beryl laughed, still eating with one hand, while putting his free arm around the boy's waist.

"Why would I wanna go anywhere without you?" Russel shrugged.

"Hey. After a while, you'll be beggin' me to get away from you. I drive people crazy."

"I don't think ya do..." the scout shook his head.

"Nah, I really do. I'm too 'clingy' or some shit like that. Always wanna be with ya. 'Parrently, I don't know the concept of privacy." Well, that's what he'd been told... that's why none of his... "relationships" hadn't worked out.

"Well, ain't nothin' wrong with not wantin' to be alone," Beryl speculated. "I sure as hell don't mind..." Russel didn't say anything, but he was pretty sure that the engineer _would_ mind, sooner or later.

Later that day, after it had stopped raining and Russel had returned from his rounds, Beryl had dug out the old chess set, and was attempting to teach Russel how to play. "Attempting" being the key word.

"Why the fuck can't the pawn move that way? That don't make sense. If anything, the pawn should be the ones movin' the most. Like a scout. They're the ones nobody gives a shit about." Well, he had a point about them moving, but...

"_I _give a shit about scouts... one in particular." Russel blushed.

"Yeah, well you ain't the whole team, now are you? Maybe you should be in charge. Then they wouldn't go through so many of us poor fuckers." Unfortunately, Beryl knew that Russel was right. Scouts were not very highly valued. They were viewed as "just another scout," and if they needed a diversion, they'd send a scout to distract the enemy. The unfortunate scout very rarely came out of the ordeal alive, and no one ever mourned the loss. No one bothered to get to know the scouts, either. No point in making friends with someone who's just going to die right away. Only the very best scouts made it through any of the battles; those that did were usually pretty badly wounded.

"Yeah, it's not fair. But you're here with me now, so no fightin' for us. Ever again, kay?"

"Yeah! And while we're at it, enough of this game, too!" Russel shouted, throwing the board in the air and scattering the pieces everywhere. Beryl glared at him.

"You'd better pick that up, ya hear?"

"Or what?" Russel stuck his tongue out at him. He was making it hard to be mad at him. It didn't help that he was currently shirtless, and his too-large pants hung precariously low on his slender hips.

**(This is the beginning of the lemon)**

"Or, uh... or... or... w-what're ya doin'?" Russel had crawled across the small table (where the chess board had been until a few moments ago) and was staring intently at Beryl. Suddenly, he leaned forward, kissing the man deeply. "Eh?" Beryl couldn't seem to think of anything coherent to say, so he just gave into the kiss, awkwardly putting his hands on the scout's shoulders. Then, somehow (he hadn't even noticed him move), Russel was in the engineer's lap, straddling him. "W-what- w-" Russel silenced him again with another aggressive kiss. Beryl was getting slightly uncomfortable; he could feel his body reacting to the scout's attention in... rather _intimate_ ways. "What're you doin'?" Beryl asked again as the scout ran his hands over his chest.

"Kinda obvious, ain't it?" Russel asked cheekily as he unlatched one of the hooks on the man's suspenders.

"But-but are you- oh!" Russel bit down on Beryl's earlobe, effectively silencing him.

"Whassa matter, Beryl?" he taunted the larger man as he made short work of the other latch.

"R-Russel, are you-are you okay?"

"Does it look like it?" The scout replied slyly, running his lips across the man's jawbone.

"Well, yeah, but-but-" his pulse was racing. He started slightly as the last button on his shirt gave way and a slender hand slid across his chest.

"But what? Am I bothering you?" Russel's tone made it clear that he didn't care one way or another if he were bothering the engineer.

"Well, n-no, but I-" he could feel his face burning. "But I've never actually- I mean, y-you know..." Russel's eyes widened.

"Huh? You're a virgin?" He nodded. "For real?" He nodded again, moaning slightly as the scout shifted his hips suggestively against the other's. "Well, we can fix that, now can't we?" he murmured into Beryl's ear, his warm breath tickling his ear and sending goosebumps across his body.

"Oh..." he'd lost all coherency by this point. Russel enjoyed the power he had over the man, and he doubled his efforts. He was not disappointed; the man arched his back, letting out a decidedly un-engineerlike whine as the scout ground their hips together. "R-Russel..." he moaned, sounding almost in pain.

"Hmm?" The scout sounded smug. He stood up suddenly, tugging on the straps to Beryl's overalls, leading him to the other room. "C'mon." Beryl didn't even think of arguing. He stumbled after the boy, joining him on the bed that they'd shared (although not in the same sense) the night before. He lay there, propped up on the pillows for a few moments, unsure of what to do, until the scout was back on top of him, his legs on either side of the engineer's hips. "What's wrong, scared?" the smaller boy taunted. For once, Beryl just nodded. "Aww, c'mon. Do what you want to me." Russel rocked his hips forward ever-so-slightly, but it was enough to get Beryl moving, although mostly out of instinct. The scout moaned enticingly as the larger man's hands wrapped almost all the way around his thin waist, gripping his hips tightly as they moved against each other. It was about then that he realized that, although he wasn't sure _exactly_ what he was supposed to be doing, Russel expected him to top. That kind of frightened him, but he also found it immensely exciting, and he sat up, capturing the scout's lips in an almost violent kiss. This time, it was Russel's turn to moan in a very uncharacteristic way. Usually, he wasn't one to show any kind of weakness at all, if he could help it (other than to coffee). The scout tugged at Beryl's overalls again, pulling them lower until they were down around his knees, and then his ankles, and then with some difficulty, until they were off completely. When the smaller man began messing with the waistband of the engineer's underwear, Beryl finally worked up enough courage to unbutton Russel's pants, and they were already so loose that they practically fell off of his slim hips. Russel's eyebrows rose in surprise and delight, and he crawled off the larger man, removing his own underwear. With one hand, he continued caressing the engineer through the thin layer of cloth separating them while he prepared himself with the other. Beryl moaned, needy, under the scout's touch.

"Russel..." He was slightly embarrassed by the way he could do nothing but moan the boy's name, but at this point, he realized, he didn't actually care.

"You ready, man?" the scout asked, his voice sounding slightly tense, although whether from nervousness or excitement, Beryl wasn't sure. He nodded breathlessly, and Russel tugged at his underwear until the engineer took the hint and removed them. To his surprise, Russel moved downward and took Beryl's entire length in his mouth for a moment, coating it with saliva.

"W-wh..."

"We got no lube. Now go for it. Just... ah..." He seemed apprehensive as he kneeled on all fours before the man.

"Oh. Uh, don' worry... I'll be gentle." Russel rolled his eyes, although Beryl thought he looked slightly relieved.

"Just at first. I ain't a total pansy..." Despite his tough words, the engineer could tell that he was a little frightened, and he kissed him once more, softly but passionately, before positioning himself.

"Jest, ah... tell me, ya know, if I'm hurtin' you, or whatever..." Russel nodded once, tensely, flinching slightly as he felt the initial contact. "You sure you're okay?"

"Goddammit, just do it already!" He hissed, and not wanting to upset him, Beryl pushed into him slowly. He felt the scout tense, whimpering slightly.

"Are-are you okay?" He stammered.

"Yeah, s-sorry, I just- yeah, I'm fine." He didn't sound too sure, but glared at Beryl as if daring him to argue. Beryl rubbed his back soothingly, and the scout moaned softly, pushing back against him. The engineer obligingly pushed the rest of the way into him, moaning slightly. He'd never felt anything like it. "Don't just s-sit there, m-move, or somethin'!" Russel ordered.

"Ah..." Beryl moaned deeply as he pushed in and out slowly. The scout's noises didn't sound much more intelligent, although every now and then, he would whimper pathetically, stopping Beryl where he was, only to be yelled at again. Although Russel wouldn't admit it (he was far too proud, and besides, he didn't want Beryl to feel bad), he was in quite a bit of pain, both physical and emotional. Although he felt strong affection (love?) for Beryl, the experience kept bringing back painful memories of his months held captive. He relaxed slightly as Beryl found a steady rhythm,. It's okay, he kept telling himself. It;s him; not that spy. Not him. Never that spy. Just him. Soon, his moans turned more urgent, this time purely from pleasure, and he guided Beryl's hand to his own erection. The man obligingly stroked it a few more times until Russel came, not forced and of his own accord for the first time in what felt like forever. The engineer wasn't too far behind; to be honest, Russel was surprised he'd made it this long. They collapsed in a pile on the bed, breathing heavily as Beryl pulled out.

"Russel, you okay? Whassa matter, boy?" what was he talking about? Beryl's fingers brushed across the scout's cheek, coming away wet. What? "Why're you crying? Did I hurt you?" He looked horrified. "S-Sorry, I- er, I-" Russel shook his head forcefully.

"Nah, it ain't you. Just ignore me, I dunno what the fuck my problem is," he lied, cursing his weakness and fighting to will away the sobs that threatened to take over. He lost.

"R-Russel, I'm sorry..." Beryl didn't know what was wrong, but he felt responsible for it, despite the scout's denial.

"No," Russel asserted. "No... I'm fine-"

"No, you're not. Whatsa matter?" He demanded.

**(This is the end of the lemon)  
**

"Really, I am fine. I just- I just- don't leave me," he whispered, hating himself for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. "Please..."

"Why would I do that?" Beryl was at a total loss for words; he didn't know what to say or do, with Russel clearly in such profound emotional pain.

"I-I mean, look at me. I get wantin' to just... to... you know," His cheeks burned as he lowered his eyes in shame. "But you- I'm sure you can get all kinds of guys when we leave this hellhole. You ain't bad lookin', and I mean... we already... I... you know..." Beryl stared at him blankly, until he realized exactly what the boy was trying to say.

"What? You're sayin' that now that we've... uh, yeah" it was kind of pathetic how neither of them, grown men, could actually say the word "sex," "that I'd be done with ya?" his tone was incredulous.

"Well, y'never know. I sure as hell wouldn't want some little shit like me around..."

"Yeah, well, I'm keepin' you around as long as I can, so ya don't gotta worry. You understand?" He made Russel meet his eyes. "I've already told ya a hundred times, I'm not leavin' ya to fend for yourself. I'm stickin' with you."

* * *

A/N: pleh. there it is. um... tell me what you think. I know it isn't very good, but please, be kind...

*many thanks to _soundofmadness223_*

~alex~


	7. Chapter 7

(I don't own Team Fortress Two)

**A/N:** **WARNING**: So in this chapter, things get a little graphic, and not so much in a good way. Just telling you so you know, and don't read it if you don't wanna.

~bad things happen to poor, poor scout....~

* * *

~Chapter Seven~

* * *

Unfortunately, that night, Russel's dreams were less than pleasant. More than once, he woke both himself and Beryl in the middle of the night, screaming or thrashing around, shaking in fear. Each time, Beryl would take him in his arms, holding him and soothing him until the tremors stopped. After one particularly realistic dream involving a certain blue-clad frenchman, Russel lay huddled against the engineer, sobbing painfully and uncontrollably. Beryl couldn't believe the suffering that the boy was enduring. It hurt him physically to lay there and listen to the scout's sobs, and he occupied the time by inventing creative ways that one might torture a spy to death. After the scout had calmed, slipping back into a fitful sleep, Beryl was just drifting off when Russel lurched violently, releasing a heart-wrenching cry and shoving himself forcefully away from the engineer.

"No! NO, no no, please, please!" He was begging, pleading.

"Russel, calm down! It's okay, it's just me!" he tried to calm the frightened scout, but the boy just recoiled more, smashing into the bedside table.

"No, please! I'm sorry, please don't... don't touch me, please, don't hurt me..." Oh, he would fucking kill that damn spy...

"Hey. Hey, it's a'right. Listen, Russel. It's jest me. It's me, Beryl. I'm not gonna hurtcha. Okay? It's just me..." he reached one hand tentatively towards the cowering figure in the corner.

"B-Beryl?" God, he sounded so frightened as he called the engineer's name.

"Tha's right, it's me. Don't worry, it's just me..." he turned the lamp on to see the scout laying on the floor in the fetal position, peering up at him with fear in his eyes. When he saw the engineer, relief washed over his features, and his body went limp. "See? It's okay," He crooned to the boy as he gently lifted him off of the floor and back onto the bed. "Here. How 'bout we keep the light on. That better?" Russel's eyes were tightly closed, but he nodded vigorously. He clutched at the engineer's hand so tightly it started to lose feeling, but Beryl didn't mind. Anything to comfort Russel...

Russel slept better with the lamp on, and they both slept late into the next morning. Beryl was finally awakened by the feeling of a body next to him, fidgeting with boredom. He smiled, yawning hugely.

"How long ya been awake?" he asked as he rolled over, almost crushing the small figure next to him.

"Hey," Russel grumbled, pushing him off. "I dunno. Like, ten minutes, mebbe." He shrugged, sitting straight up in bed. "Let's get up." Beryl couldn't stop himself from laughing. "What? What's so funny?"

"Nothin'. Yer just so full of energy." Russel grinned widely.

"What can I say? I'm a force 'a nature!"

"Oh really? Well, then, why dontcha make breakfast, if yer so wide awake." Russel was out of bed in a flash.

"Nuh-uh. I'm gonna go make the rounds pretty soon. Kay?" Beryl sighed, feigning exasperation.

"Yeah, yeah. I guess. Just be careful," he warned.

"I will, I will," Russel groaned, smiling in spite of himself. He leaned in tensely to kiss the engineer. "Oh, and, ah, I'm sorry about last night... ya know, me flippin' out every three seconds..." Beryl shook his head even as he hugged the scout affectionately.

"Don't apologize fer that. Ain't your fault." Russel smiled warmly. Beryl made him feel much better about himself.

"Alright. I'll be back in a bit."

"Fine, fine. Leave me to make breakfast..." the engineer laughed as Russel stuck out his tongue before speeding out.

Things were looking pretty normal. Not that that was unexpected. There wasn't anyone out here, and the main reason they kept tabs on the place was so that they knew if anything needed to be fixed, like the water tower or anything like that. Normal, that is, until Russel just happened to look down as he was rounding a corner. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the footprint that had formed, probably when the dirt was wet from the rain. That footprint had no business whatsoever being there. None. He felt a shiver run down his spine, and his stomach dropped in fear at the familiar feeling of being watched. Shit. _Shit_. He was fucked, and he knew it. Because he recognized that footprint. He recognized the narrow, almost feminine tread, and the way it tapered off to pointed toes... he almost expected it when he felt a knife pressed against his back, a sinister voice whispering into his ear.

"Did you miss me, _ma fleur? _It is okay; _je suis retourné_." Russel whimpered in fear. This was... as if one of his nightmares were coming true. Here he was, stuck out on the outskirts of the base, with the blue spy. With no weapon, and no Beryl. He was royally fucked.

"N-no," He whined as he felt a gloved hand glide up his shirt.

"_Ferme ta gueule,_" The spy hissed, slapping him hard across the cheek. He whimpered again as the man grabbed the front of his shirt, slamming him backward against a crumbling cement wall. "Look at me, my dear." Russel couldn't bring himself to meet the man's cruel eyes. "I said look at me!" He hissed dangerously, roughly grabbing Russel's chin and yanking it upwards until he was forced to meet his gaze. His blood ran cold at the look in the man's eyes. There was such disdain for the scout, such complete, unmasked cruelty, and most frightening of all, pure lust, that the scout felt himself beginning to panic and hyperventilate. "Yes, yes. I 'ave missed you," The man purred dangerously around the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. "Now, allow me to show you 'ow much." Russel bit his tongue, holding back a scream as the man extinguished his cigarette against his chest. A muffled sort of squeak managed to escape, and the spy laughed in delight. "Oh, my pet makes such delightful sounds..." he mused, running the razor-sharp edge of his blade along the scout's jawbone, straying dangerously close to his throat as he pressed just hard enough to raise a thin line of blood. He chuckled again as Russel swallowed nervously, before suddenly grabbing a fistful of hair as he roughly pulled down the boy's pants, turning him so that his front was being pushed against the wall.

"No, p-please," Russel moaned despite himself. The spy responded by smashing his head against the wall, forcing him to bend slightly. His pained whimper as he felt a hand yanking backwards on his hair became a scream of agony as the scout pushed into him without any preparation or warning. "N-n-no..." He moaned in pain as he was slammed into the wall again and again with the man's violent thrusts.

"What vas zat, _mon amour_?" The spy whispered venomously into his ear. Russel was releasing strangled sobs with each thrust, his eyes clenched shut as he tried to block out the reality of the situation. _This can't be happening, it can't be happening, no, no, no! _"_Vous_ are **mine**, do you understand?" He hissed. "**Mine**," he emphasized as he slammed into the poor scout. He slowed as he neared his climax; he wanted to draw this out as long as he possibly could. He reached around to stroke the scout, who moaned in protest. _No, anything but that..._

"No, n-no..."

"Zat is not vat _zis_ says," he retorted cruelly, squeezing the scout's erection. "See 'ow you respond to my touch? You love zees, **whore**." Russel shook his head, crying out again when the man continued to stimulate him. He kept trying to push the spy away, but the way they were positioned, he couldn't reach him, and he needed his arms to stop his face from being smashed repeatedly into the cement. He felt himself tensing up involuntarily, hating himself for responding to the bastard's touch in this way. The spy was perfectly still as the scout came into his hand, wiping his hand across the scout's shirt and chest before resuming his barrage of the boy's body. Russel could feel the man stiffen as his movements became more violent and more erratic, before with one last, forceful thrust, he came, shoving the scout to the ground as he chuckled evilly. "Ah, ztop crying," He ordered, kicking him none-too-gently in the ribs. "Look at you, dirty little whore..." Russel curled up as tightly as he could, flinching as the spy knelt down next to him. "Ah, I 'ave missed you... but I vill see you soon enough, no?" Dear god, no... "I 'ave wanted to try zis for some time..." he muttered, punching buttons on his cloaking device. A moment later, after wrapping an ungloved hand around Russel's neck, the device was activated, and Russel was looking at... himself.

"Haha! Lesse how ol' engie's doin'!" The spy laughed, his voice as well as his face a perfect imitation of Russel's.

"No! No, l-leave him a-alone," Russel gasped.

"I sink not, _mon amour,"_ the spy hissed in his normal voice. "Now, _adieu_, and good luck getting back before ze sun sets." He set off running, his movements just a little different from Russel's; not different enough for anyone to notice. Russel fought to crawl to his feet. He had to get back, had to warn Beryl... had to get up... had to get up... he cried out loudly in pain as he made it to his feet. He fastened his belt, securing his pants as well as he could, clinging to his last bit of dignity. He had to get back; he wouldn't let that bastard touch Beryl.

The engineer glanced at the clock, concerned. It seemed like Russel was taking longer than usual today...

"Gotta stop worryin' about him like that," He scolded himself. Although, to be fair, the food was gonna get cold... as if on cue, he heard the door bang open and shut as rapid footsteps approached.

"Hey, how's it goin'?" Beryl blushed slightly at the very sound of the voice, hoping the other hadn't noticed.

"What took yeh so long?" the scout shrugged sheepishly.

"Got distracted. Ya know how it goes..." Beryl rolled his eyes. Yeah, he knew all too well about the scout's short attention span.

"Well, whatever. Now eat up." he sat to join the boy at the table. "Well? You gonna get yer food, or not?" He shoved the plate towards the boy, who grinned at him before spooning a steaming pile of hash browns onto his plate. Beryl stared as he passed up the fresh pot of coffee. "You okay?"

"Whaddaya mean?" The scout asked around a mouthful of food. Beryl shook his head.

"You don't want coffee?" The boy shrugged, and Beryl felt the smallest seed of suspicion plant itself in his head. Something was up with Russel, even if he didn't yet know what... he kept a wary eye on the scout for the remainder of the morning. Yeah, something was definitely up. He didn't complain of boredom once, even as Beryl sat and read the newspaper that had come in on the train, and while Russel's whining could get on Beryl's nerves, he was beginning to worry very seriously.

"Russel, you sure you're okay?" He finally asked as he watched from the corner of his eye. The boy had been sitting in the same spot for the last fifteen minutes without any fidgeting whatsoever. That was unprecedented.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"Well, I mean, you ain't mad at me, right?" the scout laughed, maybe even a bit cruelly, and Beryl had the fleeting impression that he was looking at someone totally different.

"Hell no. Just tired." Beryl nodded. He supposed that made sense... they hadn't slept very well, to be fair... still... something was off. He went back to reading his paper, keeping a wary eye on the scout. He jumped violently as he heard the door bang again, and he saw the scout tense up, his face taking on a very un-Russel-like expression.

"B-Beryl!" That was odd, that voice, though out of breath, sounded like...

"Russel?" He called, staring intently at the scout before him.

"Beryl! He-he's here, he-" his voice went silent as he stumbled into the room, seeing the imposter.

"Shit," Beryl muttered, reaching for his shotgun but only finding his wrench. Well, that would work too.

"No, man! That's him!" the first scout shouted, panic showing on his face. Beryl hesitated, and that was all it took for the man to activate his cloaking device, slipping out of the room with silent expertise. Beryl turned to embrace the real Russel, backing them into a corner so that the spy couldn't sneak up behind them. A cruel laugh sounded from the opposite side of the room.

"Ah, Beryl, you foolish man. Should have known, you 'ave not the guts to do anything to 'im," the man taunted. "Do not vorry your pretty heads for now. I vill be back, but not right now. Adieu," he drawled, and a moment later they heard him leave through the door.

"Shit, shit shit, Russel!" Beryl moaned into the trembling boy's chest as he held him tightly. He'd promised that the spy wouldn't touch him again, but the damage had been done; he could tell pretty much what had happened just by looking at the scout, with his battered body and stained clothing...

"Beryl, are-are you okay? What did he do to you..." Beryl couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Shit, forget me! I'm fine! God, Russel. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have sent you out... I'm so sorry..." He was getting worked up, but Russel just shook his head, tears coursing silently down his face.

"Shut up. Not your fault... just... just... help me, please." He couldn't keep the desperation out of his voice, and Beryl could feel the tears on his own face. He'd promised to protect Russel, and he'd failed.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry, Russel!!! Ugh, I was in a terrible mood when I wrote this, just in case you couldn't tell. I dunno why, either. I was planning for the spy to show up again, but... I wasn't expecting this to happen. I don't know, it just sort of happened like this...

Things will get better, though, so don't worry. Review, please? But be kind... thanks.

*Many thanks to soundofmadness223.*

~alex~


	8. Chapter 8

(I don't own Team Fortress Two)

* * *

~Chapter Eight~

* * *

Beryl couldn't shake the guilty feeling that was weighing him down. It had been at least partially his fault, regardless of what the scout insisted. And Russel... well, Russel wasn't doing so well. He didn't blame Beryl at all, but he was just really jumpy- more than usual. His entire body ached, and he couldn't stand up for more than a few minutes at a time. He knew that the engineer blamed himself, and no matter how many times he had attempted to tell the engineer that the fault didn't lie with him, he had been unable to convince him otherwise.

"Hey, Russel? You okay in there?" Beryl knocked quietly on the bathroom door. The scout had been holed up in there for over an hour, the shower running and the steam drifting out around the doorframe.

"Yeah." His answer was short, and his voice sounded weak. Beryl had to fight the urge to break down the door and take the poor boy in his arms. Somehow, though, he thought that might not help matters. Sighing, he sank into a chair, rubbing his stubbly chin.

"Fuck." That was kind of an understatement. The blue spy was there, somewhere on the base. He had already done unspeakable things to Russel, and his parting words made it clear that he hadn't finished with them. He tried to think of a solution to the problem at hand, but no matter how hard he wracked his brain, nothing came to him. He could put a call in to headquarters, but what would that accomplish? What would he say? 'Hey, this is Beryl, a retired engineer. I'm having trouble with a rogue spy. What? Has he hurt me? No, but he did hurt my gay lover who happens to be an enemy scout...' Yeah, that would go over well. Maybe he could leave Russel out of it completely. He shrugged. "Hm. Whatever. Couldn't hurt to try, I guess..." He went into the small communications room, where there was all the necessary equipment to contact headquarters. A voice answered, and Beryl was relieved when he recognized the German accent.

"Hello, this is Blue Headquarters, how can I help you?"

"Sininen! This is Beryl," he greeted the medic.

"Beryl! How are you doing? Are you well?" the doctor asked politely.

"More or less. You?"

"Very good, thank you. What is the reason for you call?"

"Yeah... Mer came back here." He heard a sharp intake of breath on the other line. "Whassa matter?"

"You are absolutely positive it is Mer?"

"Oh, yeah. Trust me. Why?" He asked.

"He is supposed to be dead." Beryl's eyebrows rose.

"Dead? How is he supposed to be dead?"

"He was supposed to have been executed." Well, that was certainly news...

"Executed? What the hell for?" He could think of a few things he would like to execute him for...

"Well, I am sure you know of his... habits." Beryl growled in affirmation. "Well, the higher-ups got wind of these goings-on, and investigated further into the issue. Many of his activities counted as crimes against humanity." Well, Beryl could have told them that much. "Upon even more investigation, they uncovered multiple incriminating factors about which I am unable to speak."

"Huh," was all Beryl could say. "Well, he certainly ain't dead..."

"I will inform my supervisor, and they will send someone to your aid."

"Thanks, Sininen."

"Oh, Beryl. There was something I was meaning to ask you." Beryl grunted for him to continue. "When we left the base in your hands, there was a boy there who was badly... misused. Mainly about aforementioned spy." Beryl stiffened.

"Yeah? What about him?"

"I... Forgive me for asking, but I was wondering what had become of him..." He sounded concerned, and he had always been a kind man.

"Yeah, he's here. He... he was doin' a lot better, 'till that bastard of a spy got ahold of him again," he spat.

"So he has been staying with you? Again, please forgive my boldness, but have you taken care of him?"

"I haven't done anything to him like Mer, if that's what you're wondering," Beryl growled, insulted by the very thought. "Mer got to him earlier today... I can't get the boy to come out of the bathroom. He's been in the shower for more 'n' an hour..." The doctor sighed.

"I am quite sorry about that... but the two of you, how do you get along? Do you fight, or are there any ill feelings between the two of you?"

"Uh, we get along okay... I mean, we're friends and stuff..." He could feel his face blushing at the major understatement, and the medic chuckled knowingly.

"That is good to hear. I was concerned about the boy myself... I would have liked to have been able to treat his wounds myself, but as you know, that was not possible at the time."

"Yeah, I know... I got him all fixed up though. The first time, anyway. He hasn't let me touch him since he got back here..." He knew how upset he sounded, but he didn't care.

"I... All I can tell you is that it will take time until he is comfortable with human contact for a while. You must take care with how you speak to him and how you move around him. No sudden movements, no raised voices. Also, he will be sensitive to anything..." The doctor coughed to clear his throat. "Anything romantic, and he will probably be feeling very conflicted and confused." Beryl didn't know what to say; it was obvious the sharp medic had guessed the nature of their relationship. "So just remember that, be gentle with the boy, and whatever you do, keep him away from that damned spy, at all costs."

"Don't worry 'bout that. That bastard shows his face around here again, I'll fucking kill him."

"But... an invisible spy can cause just as much damage..." Sininen was teasing him.

"You know damn well what I mean," the engineer shot back.

"Yes, yes. I apologize. But, my friend, I will pass the information to my supervisor. Hopefully, we will be able to speak again. Until then, be very careful. The man is dangerous..."

"Don't I know it," he muttered angrily. "Take care. Bye." He set the phone down, feeling quite a bit better about the situation.

"Who're you talking to?" Beryl jumped slightly at the quiet voice; he hadn't even realized that the scout was out of the shower.

"Oh, I called to headquarters... wanted to know if they were aware that their... their spy was out here." Russel was standing there, his hair damp, and wearing the pair of pajamas that Beryl had insisted that he wear, as well as one of Beryl's jackets. The scout wouldn't look him in the eye, though, and it was really starting to bother him.

"Yeah? What'd they say?"

"Well, 'pparently, he's supposed to be dead." Russel looked at him then, his eyes wide in surprise. "I know, that was my thought. They were s'posed to have executed him... I talked to one of the medics, good friend o' mine. He said he'd talk to the guys in charge, have them send someone out to try 'n' take care of 'im." At that, Russel's expression turned to one of panic.

"What? No way, man. No way, you can't let them send someone! I'm a _red_ scout, for cryin' out loud! I mean, you've seen what they do to red scouts..." His cheeks were flushed, and he was wringing his hands in distress.

"What? No! No, they won't do anything to you. I mean, it ain't like we're actually havin' a battle here or anything like that, and if it makes you better, you can wear a blue uniform... I'm sure there's a few layin' around here and there." Russel looked totally unconvinced.

"Dude... I-I- they're not gonna leave me alone... you know they won't. The second they see me, man... Shit, shit, shit!" Beryl stood up, meaning to comfort him.

"Russel, please listen," he pleaded. "They're not gonna do anything to you. Okay? I won't let them. I'll just tell them... I don't know. But they won't touch you." Russel stepped back from the man.

"Yeah, you said that last time. Look how well that worked out," he muttered, making Beryl's heart skip a beat or two.

"R-Russel, I'm sorry." His voice was shaking. "I-I had no way of knowing... I mean, why would he be out there? I couldn't... shit." He put his head in his hands. He'd fucked up. "I'm sorry, Russel. I'm so sorry. I told ya I'd protect ya. I'm so sorry..." He walked past Russel into the bedroom, where he lay on the bed, sighing heavily. "God, I'm sorry. I failed ya..." He lay his arm across his eyes. He turned his head in surprise when he felt the bed move, the springs squeaking softly as they stretched to hold another figure. "Russel?" The boy's expression was full of sorrow.

"Shit, Beryl. I know... I didn't mean that. It was stupid to say. It wasn't your fault..." He was almost whispering, and Beryl rolled on his side so that he was closer to the scout. Taking a deep breath, Russel lay down next to the engineer, fighting the urges to recoil from the feeling of being in such close proximity with another person. He only flinched slightly as the engineer reached out to stroke his cheek, and he fought to keep still at the affectionate contact. Beryl sighed sadly.

"Shit, Russel. I... I'm sorry. Do you need anything?" he offered. Russel blushed slightly, studying the bedspread intently (and deliberately not looking at Beryl).

"W-Well... Um... just-just-" He was having a hard time with this, and Beryl held his hand reassuringly. "Just hold me?" he whispered, his face flushing even more as he closed his eyes in embarrassment.

"Hold you?" The engineer smiled as he took the boy in his arms, ignoring the slight involuntary flinch. "Shit, I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

* * *

A/N: Hey. Um... don't really have much to say about this, except I hope you like it... thanks. tell me what you think!

~the name Sininen is... Finnish, I think, for the word 'blue.'

*many thanks to _soundofmadness223_*

~alex~


	9. Chapter 9

(I don't own Team Fortress Two)

* * *

~Chapter Nine~

* * *

It didn't take the promised help long to reach the base. It was the next day, early in the afternoon, when the phone in the communications room rang shrilly, causing Russel to drop the book he'd been reading in surprise. Beryl picked up the receiver tentatively.

"Beryl? This is Sininen." Beryl was relieved to hear his friend on the phone.

"Hey."

"There should be a small blue group arriving today. They will be able to take care of your spy problem."

"Thank you, Sininen. I really appreciate it."

"How... how is the boy doing? Any improvement?" Beryl furtively glanced toward the scout.

"Eh," he grunted, lowering his voice. "Little bit..."

"I am glad to hear it. He is a scout, correct?"

"Yeah..."

"They are resilient. Trust me, he will be alright, eventually." Beryl smiled a little sadly.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Still..."

"It is hard, I understand. But as soon as they catch Mer, he will no longer be a threat."

"That's a relief. Fucking bastard spy..." He muttered the last part, starting to get worked up. "Sorry. But thanks, Sininen."

"It is not a problem, my friend. The people chosen are not amateurs."

"Anyone I know?"

"Mankato, Affery, Mavi..."

"Shit."

"What, is there something wrong?"

"I kinda stole a pair of Affery's pajamas... for Russel, that first week." Sininen laughed softly.

"Don't worry. I am sure she would not mind. She, too, was... horrified by his treatment." Yeah, she'd always been a pretty decent person...for a pyro. They were all a little twisted, in Beryl's opinion; no one in their right mind would enjoy lighting people on fire. But that was beside the point, at the moment.

"Well, I'd better let ya go..." That was the least awkward way of getting out of a phone conversation without sounding rude that Beryl could think of. Russel had gone into the other room, where Beryl couldn't see him, and it was making him uncomfortable.

"Yes, I apologize. Good bye, and good luck."

"Bye. Talk to you... some other time." He hung up the phone, shaking his head. Phone conversational skills had never really been his strong point. "Russel?" he called.

"Yo. I'm in here." He followed the sound of his voice to find him laying on the couch, tossing an orange in the air and catching it repeatedly.

"So. They sent some people..." He was ready for the scout's reaction this time.

"Oh man, I fucking told you! I'm screwed, man. I'm-"

"Fine. You're just fine," Beryl interrupted him. "Trust me. I know them. Okay? They're good people. They aren't gonna hurt ya. Hey, remember the pyro girl I told ya about? She's coming." Russel threw his hands in the air.

"Fan-fucking-tastic! Now I know I'm fucked!"

"What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"I'm wearing her pajamas, dumbass. The ones you stole from her." Hm. Sure enough.

"You could change..." Into what? There was nothing in the bunker that would stay on his thin frame. They had found some smaller pants quite some time ago, but they'd been in such a rush to get somewhere safe, where they could lock themselves in and spy-proof the place, that they hadn't grabbed much, just what had been within reach. Which Affery's pajamas had been, for whatever reason. Even if he managed to cinch a belt tight enough to keep them up, the coarse fabric of the pants would only agitate his injuries. "Never mind. She won't care."

"She's a fucking pyro. Of course she's gonna care."

"But she's a nice pyro." Russel glared at him, and he knew how stupid it had sounded. "Seriously! Besides, why would she kill you for wearing her pajamas? At the very least, she'd wait until you took 'em off, so they wouldn't get wrecked." He had been trying to joke, lighten the mood, but the second the words were out of his mouth, he knew that his choice of words had been poor.

"Y-yeah, that's probably what will happen, too, when the rest of them see me."

"No! That wasn't even what I meant! You won't be taking them off. Okay?"

"You're right, someone else will do it for me. Whether I want them to or not." Russel had turned himself so that all that Beryl could see of him was his back, but Beryl could hear the slight tremor in his voice.

"No, Russel." They sat there for a moment in silence, until Russel finally turned. Beryl was unsurprised to see that his eyes were welling with tears, spilling as he spoke.

"Beryl? I-I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm being a jerk. I know, I'm being a total jackass to you." Beryl opened his mouth to protest, but Russel wasn't done speaking. "I'm sorry..." He looked more angry than anything at the way his voice broke in the middle of the word. "Just... no. Please, don't let them... d-don't let them..."

"Hey, calm down! Please, it'll be okay. They won't touch you. I'll kill anyone who even fucking _**looks**_ at you wrong. Alright?" The scout's broken demeanor was serving to both piss Beryl off and break his heart simultaneously; no one should have to feel that way.

"Y-yeah..." Russel didn't feel too much better. Sure, Beryl meant well, but hey. He was still human.

It was almost ten at night when the radio in the communications room let out a burst of static and jumbled voices.

"Give it back!"

"No! Fuck off!"

"Goddammit, give me the fucking radio!" Russel raised his eyebrow at Beryl. The engineer shook his head, sighing.

"Yep, that's our girl."

"Hello, this is Affery. Do you copy?"

"Yep. I'm here," Beryl replied, not bothering with all the technical talk.

"Well, we got your spy. This motherfucker is a nasty piece of work, isn't he?"

"You're tellin' me..."

"So, you must be in the bunker?" Beryl saw Russel tense up, staring at the engineer with wide eyes.

"Yeah..."

"Good! We're coming to see you, once we deal with this... thing." They could hear an angry voice shouting French profanities in the background. "Should I set him on fire?" Russel's eyes got even wider, and Beryl was almost tempted to laugh. Almost.

"What do you think?" Beryl asked Russel.

"What do you think is the most painful way to die?"

"Burning's gotta be right up there..."

"Then yes. Let that-that bastard burn." Beryl nodded.

"Sure, Affery. Have your fun with 'im."

"Heh... this will be fun," she replied before the line went dead. Russel looked at Beryl again, looking shocked.

"She's fucking insane," he muttered.

"Yep. Pretty much."

It was almost a relief to Beryl when the radio crackled again, Affery announcing that they were outside of the bunker, and that Beryl should let them in.

"Kay. Just gimme a second."

"No, Beryl! No, please, don't let them in!" Russel's terrified expression and shaking frame were tearing at his heart, but he shook his head.

"Hey, calm down, Russel. Calm down," he soothed the scout. "Look. They're not gonna do anything. Okay? Nothin'." He bent to kiss Russel reassuringly before pressing the button to let his teammates in.

"Beryl! How you been?" Russel cringed in the corner as a group of three people entered. It wasn't a very effective method of hiding, and the dark complected woman who had taken off the pyro mask spotted him quickly. She looked surprised, but not as surprised as Russel was at her response. "Dammit, you look better in those than I do!" Beryl stared at her for a moment, before shaking his head as if in defeat.

"You are a strange one, aren't you?" asked the young medic who was with them. She spun to glare at him.

"Like you're one to talk, Mavi." He shrugged.

"Hey. I never said that's a bad thing..."

"You guys, please, just get inside!" Beryl recognized the speaker as Mankato, one of the team's younger snipers.

"So who are you, and why are you wearing my pajamas?" Her voice held no malice, but Russel couldn't help flinching as everyone's attention was directed to him. Beryl stepped in to save him, noticing his discomfort.

"Hey, now. Sit down, make yourselves comfortable." They obeyed, Affery kicking off her heavy boots and rubber suit. "Alright. This is Russel," he told them, Russel forcing himself to meet each person's eyes, smiling nervously. He felt a little better, now that he was sitting so close to Beryl. Beryl wouldn't let these people hurt him. "Um... well, he's a scout..." Mavi cocked his head.

"I don't recognize you... what are you doing here?" Russel felt panic rising in his chest.

"I-I... er, I-"

"Hey, it's okay! We don't bite!" Affery told him kindly as he stuttered.

"I'm-I'm red." There. He'd said it.

"Well, that would be why I don't know you," Mavi said, and as he pondered this, he shifted slightly, causing Russel to violently flinch.

"Woah..." Affery was staring at him intently. "Wait. Are you... _that_ scout?" Her voice was slightly hushed, her eyes sincere.

"W-what do you mean?"

"The one that... that those bastards had? Before we left?" Russel quickly lowered his gaze to his shaking hands, wincing from the painful memory. She exchanged glances with her teammates, as if daring them to try anything. "Well, if it makes you feel better, they're all in jail or dead." Russel offered her a small smile.

"See? I told you they wouldn't hurt you..." Beryl told Russel softly. Russel didn't speak.

"Not everyone on our team is horrible," Mankato told him. "Don't worry. We're not here for you at all. Besides, we aren't fighting, you don't have weapons... it wouldn't be fair." The scout's expression was still grim, and Affery sighed.

"Look, kid. We aren't gonna hurt you, or whatever. Okay? Right now, we aren't enemies. Although you never answered my question about why you're wearing my pajamas..." Russel could feel his face flush.

"Oh. Heh..." It was Beryl's turn to be uncomfortable. "Yeah. I... um... borrowed them..." She shot him a disbelieving look.

"Bullshit, you borrowed them, you thief!" She couldn't hold her angry facade very long though, before smiling and shrugging. "Okay. Whatever. Why, though? Just curious... I never knew you liked fuzzy pajamas, Beryl."

"No! Not for me!" He was getting flustered, and the others were laughing slightly. "For him! I-ya know the whole week before we left? When that stupid soldier was gonna kill him, and I got him to let me have 'im instead?" Their expressions sobered. They remembered all too well. "Well, I wasn't gonna make him walk around naked. And everything I have is too big!" He was starting to get out of breath. "And I wanted something really comfortable, 'cause he was hurt!" Affery nodded.

"It's okay! Really! I just was curious. I'm glad you did, if they make you comfortable." A troubled look crossed her face. "So... you wear them when you're hurt? Are... are you hurt right now?" Russel froze in horror. No, he didn't want these people to know. They would find out how weak he was, and then... well, bad things happened when you were weak. Very bad things.

"J-just a little..." He didn't sound convincing, even to his own ears.

"What happened?" The question was innocent enough, but Russel scrunched his eyes closed.

"Fucking Mer is what happened!" Beryl spat, not noticing how uncomfortable Russel was, or how close he was to panicking. Affery noticed, though, and tried to get the engineer's attention.

"Beryl-"

"That bastard... I swear to God, if you hadn't taken care of him, I'd-"

"Beryl!"

"No, really! I'd fucking kill him for looking at Russel, let alone touch-"

"_**Beryl!" **_Mankato finally managed to get his attention, directing it to Russel who was clutching his arms close to his body, shaking violently and beginning to curl himself into a defensive position.

"Shit. Russel? Russel, it's okay!" The scout jerked away from him.

"No! No, don't touch me!" He started sobbing. "Please... no. No more... please... I'm sorry..."

"What-" Makato was looking concerned and slightly panicked, like he didn't know how to handle this kind of thing, Affery had tears in her eyes, and Mavi looked pissed beyond belief.

"Bastards," the young medic muttered through clenched teeth.

"Russel, it's okay! It's me! It's me, Beryl... Russel, please..." He put his arms around the trembling body, holding on tightly despite the scout's struggles to push him away in terror, still crying and pleading. "Russel, look at me! It's me, Russel; it's me!" After a few moments of whispering quietly to him, the scout opened his eyes, looking around in fear. They landed on the face above him.

"B-Beryl?" He threw himself at the engineer, clutching at his chest as he sobbed. Without hesitation, Beryl wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his back and still murmuring to him. Even after he'd calmed, he continued to clutch at his chest, refusing to look at anyone in the room.

"Russel?" Affery called softly. "Hey..." He glanced up quickly to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry for what they did to you, but you're safe with us. I promise." She smiled sweetly, making him tear up again. This time, Beryl gently tilted Russel's face so that he could place a quick kiss on his lips. No one said anything.

"Yeah," Beryl finally broke the silence. "As you can see, I like this scout quite a bit." Even Russel managed a smile at that. "Yep. Quite a bit." They sat and talked for a few hours, the others continuing even after Russel fell asleep in Beryl's arms. The only thing he was conscious of was the warm arms that held him protectively and the heartbeat, steady and regular, that lulled him to sleep.

* * *

A/N: I have been totally unmotivated, so sorry if this sucks. I personally hate this chapter, but... whatever. sorry if anything is confusing... you know.

All of the names are names meaning something to do with the color blue, as usual. Too lazy to look it up.

*many thanks to soundofmadness223*

~alex~


	10. Chapter 10

(I don't own Team Fortress Two)

A/N: What?! this is the last chapter? huh.

* * *

~Chapter Ten~

* * *

The next day, the visitors stayed and rested. They'd hit it off well with Russel, and he was beginning to relax a little bit. Affery, especially, had taken it upon herself to make Russel comfortable, and to make sure that the guys didn't say or do anything to upset the scout.

After a day or two, though, the group had to return.

"Thanks, you guys," Beryl thanked them, rubbing his chin absently.

"Hey, no problem," Mankato insisted. "Just glad that we were able to take care of your spy problem." Russel was suddenly self-conscious as he shook hands with them.

"Um... Thank you," he said shyly. "Sorry to be such a problem." Affery was about to protest, but this time, Beryl beat her to it.

"What are you talkin' about?" Russel was blushing, unable to meet the concerned eyes around him.

"W-well," he stammered, not liking the way this was going. "If you hadn't kept me here with you, then he wouldn't have come back, and you wouldn't have had to waste your time dealing with him." Beryl shook his head.

"Well, that's absolute bullshit," Affery observed. "We like you. Obviously, Beryl likes you. All that aside, the bastard needed to die anyway. And trust me, it's my pleasure. Spies burn quite nicely..." She laughed, a little crazily.

"You... scare me, you know that?" Mavi teased, backing away from her. Affery grinned.

"Hey, that's what I'm aiming for." Russel smiled at the team's friendly banter. He could tell that they were trying to distract him, to reassure him, and actually, he was feeling a little better.

"Thanks," He told them quietly. They said their last goodbyes, and then the small group of Blues departed. Beryl could see the change in Russel almost as soon as they left. He instantly became more relaxed, and he seemed less strained.

"You okay?" His voice startled the scout, who jumped slightly.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, you seemed kinda uptight when they were here, even after they convinced you that they liked you." Russel's shoulders slumped. He was hoping to not have this conversation.

"Yeah... I dunno. I just... new people, all at once, and in such a small area... eh." He shrugged again.

"Just not comfortable yet?"

"Pretty much..." he sighed sadly, clutching his arms close to his body. "Ah, fuck it."

"Huh?"

"Fuck this. Me and all my stupid hang-ups."

"Russel, what do ya mean?" Beryl was beginning to worry...

"I _mean_ that I'm so fucking high-maintenance!" he shouted, startling the engineer. "I mean that I shouldn't still be so freaked out about this shit! I mean that I'm just being totally stupid and pathetic! I mean, he's dead! What the fuck is my problem? And just-just-" He was breathing heavily, and his body was trembling from the severity of the imminent panic attack.

"Hey, Russel," Beryl called softly, aware of how close the scout was to falling apart. "Hey, lissen to me, Russel," He pleaded, gently reaching out and stroking the boy's cheek. "Lissen. You are not a burden, or a bother. You aren't stupid, and you aren't pathetic."

"But-" Beryl put his hand over the boy's mouth.

"Hey, now. I'm not done. Just lissen, love. You have every right to still be upset and uncomfortable. Kay? You are amazing. You're doin' wonderfully, considderin' the shit you've been through." Russel still didn't meet his eyes. "I'm serious, Russel, and I'm not just sayin' it because I love you- although that has somethin' to do with it, of course." Russel had turned away from Beryl, but the engineer could tell that he was a bit calmer. "It's okay to be feel like this. It's alright to be afraid. But it'll be okay," he told the scout. "It'll be okay. It's over, and you're safe. You're here with me now, and we're gonna be okay." Russel turned to him, smiling a little through his tears. He held his hand out to the engineer, but Beryl ignored the hand, instead putting his arms around him protectively. Russel leaned into the hug, allowing himself to be held.

"Beryl, I'm sorry that you have to deal with me."

"Russel. Shut up." The scout laughed a little at that. "Lissen, how's this sound? You 'n' me, we can get outta this hellhole. We can stop by and see yer ma, and then we can go wherever ya want. Whaddaya think?"

"You... you would want to take me with you?" Russel's voice was quiet and unsure.

"I told yeh before, I wanna keep you with me. I love you." Russel blushed as he nuzzled his face into the larger man's chest.

"Thank you," he whispered. Beryl began rubbing his back lightly, and Russel could feel his fears and anxieties beginning to recede.

"Beryl, hurry up!" Russel shouted back to the engineer, who was struggling up the side of yet another sand dune.

"Hey, not everyone's got springs in their feet, ya know!" he called back playfully. It had been three months since they had moved away from the base, and Beryl had begun building their house. It was tucked back into the woods, but it was near enough to the coast that they were able to walk to the ocean. It took a while, but the exercise felt good to the two men.

"Yahoo!!!!" Russel practically threw himself down the steep hill, losing control about halfway down and sliding the rest of the distance on his face.

"You okay?" Beryl shouted frantically. He hated it when Russel did stupid stuff like that. "Russel!"

"Yeah, I'm-ouch-fine," The scout waved away Beryl's concern, climbing laboriously to his feet. "Aw, man! Lookit this!" His chest was scraped from being rubbed against the sand, and there was sand covering every inch of him. Beryl couldn't stop himself from laughing as he caught up with the boy. "Hey! You better watch who you're laughin' at!" Russel picked up a handful of sand and threw it at Beryl, showering the engineer.

"Hey! Look who's talkin,' buddy!" He retaliated by grabbing the scout around the waist and slinging him over his shoulder. He'd gained weight in the last few months, but he was still extremely thin.

"Put me down!" he demanded, laughing. "Noooooo, put me down!!!"

"Oh, no. Not yet," Beryl reprimanded him as he was carried closer and closer to the water.

"Nooooooooooo!" Russel thrashed around like mad. "Don't throw me in the water!!!"

"Fine, fine," Beryl sighed, putting him down. "Suit yourself." Russel laughed and hugged Beryl before running after a flock of seagulls that had landed nearby, screaming at the newcomers for food. They shrieked angrily as Russel ran through their numbers, laughing like a little kid. _Good,_ Beryl thought, smiling as he watched Russel's childish antics. _It's good to see him smilin' like that..._ Not everything had gone well after they left the base. They did indeed try to visit Russel's ma, but she still didn't want to talk to him. She did say that she was relieved that he wasn't dead, and that she still loved him, but she couldn't accept him until he had realized "the error of his ways." Beryl had tried to tell Russel that his relationship with his mother was more important than their relationship, but Russel had taken that completely the wrong way, breaking into hysterics, because he was convinced that Beryl was trying to leave him, using his mother as an excuse. Finally, Beryl was able to convince him that he wasn't trying to do anything of the sort, and things had improved slightly. They had moved quite a bit farther south, but not too far- it was always hot enough to swim and play in the ocean, but it wasn't dangerously hot and dry, like it had been in the desert. Russel had initially not wanted to even go near the water, convinced that it was too cold, or too salty, or too... something. There were fish in it, and one of them could be a man-eater (unlikely, in Beryl's opinion). Eventually, Beryl figured out that Russel hadn't learned to swim, and so he taught him. Now, Russel loved everything about the beach, water included.

"Beryl, look!" Russel was gesturing excitedly toward the open expanse of sea. "Dolphins! Dolphins!" Russel was clearly thrilled by this, and Beryl found that he was pretty happy about it too. Dolphins were cool. They reminded him of Russel, with their seemingly endless energy and sweet personalities.

"You goin' in the water?" He asked Russel as they watched the pod move away from the shore, into the deeper waters.

"Yeah. Come with me?" Beryl wasn't a big fan of swimming, but for Russel, he could get a little wet. He stood from his spot on the blanket, taking Russel's hand in his.

As they waded into the shallow, sunlit waters, small fish darting around their feet and the gentle rhythm of the waves hindering them ever-so-slightly, there was nowhere else that either of them would have rather been. Beryl and Russel had each other, and that was all that was needed. Even more than that, though, Russel was healing. He was smiling almost all the time now, although he did still get dreams that had him screaming, Beryl frantically trying to wake him. But he no longer feared betrayal, he no longer feared that Beryl would leave him. He'd learned to get through life.

"It's beautiful, innit?" Beryl murmured as they surveyed the endless water and the tranquil shore line.

"It really is," Russel admitted. He loved where they lived, and he loved being here with Beryl. He had reconciled with the sea. He was _happy_.

* * *

:~:end:~:

* * *

A/N: Yeah, yeah. I know. lame ending, and I do apologize. I just totally didn't know where to go with it. I dunno.

~The 2nd to last sentence about the ocean is kind of stupid... Basically, I just threw that in there because they were by the ocean, and the name Mer (blue spy, remember?) means "sea" in French. so I just was being all symbolic. lame.

*many thanks to soundofmadness223*

~thank you all for reading this story, and I really appreciate all the positive feedback I got on this. I'm really thankful to you guys, and I hope that you liked it. :D

~it's my birthday today (feb. 5), so I had to update my stories today. yep, I'm cool like that. :D

~alex~


End file.
